


The Champagne Room

by Not Applicable (not_applicable)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (sorta but not really), Anal Fingering, Bromance to Romance, Bros fucking Bros, Crossdressing, Drunk Sex, Frottage, High Heels, Interracial Relationship, Lap Sex, Lapdance, M/M, Mile High Club, Panty Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pole Dancing, Teasing, Underwear Kink, striptease, you can fuck me when you love me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_applicable/pseuds/Not%20Applicable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony stopped short and leaned back on the pole, hips jutting out in front of him, and he rocked them from side to side as he sang along, <i>“Do you like good music?  Do you like to dance?”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Champagne Room

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for [this prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/16524.html?thread=37884300#t37884300) over at avengerkink. Seems I can't not write smut. Songs are AC/DC's "Ballbreaker" and Billy Idol's "Flesh For Fantasy."
> 
>  **3/23/14:** Dondy made some ABSOUTELY AMAZING fanart for this story. I am blushy and feeling ridiculously honored because of that. The link is at the bottom!

Tony didn't like the look on Rhodey's face. Like, _at_ _all_. They were a mile in the air with nothing below them except an expanse of ocean that stretched to every horizon. There were no staff on board Tony's jet this time around, just the pilot locked in the cockpit and the two of them, and Rhodey sat lounging on a curved couch with his eyes trained out of the window. Was he mad at Tony?

“What did I do?”

Rhodey shook his head before taking a swig of his beer, and Tony couldn't help but grin at the wobbly way he sat it down on a nearby table. Tony stood in front of him with his arms crossed and a bottle of champagne in one hand. Tony had his favorite AC/DC songs shuffling and the air was throbbing with “For Those About To Rock, We Salute You,” and by now Rhodey would have protested but he didn't even seem to notice this time around.

“Are you mad at me?”

Rhodey chuckled, then wiped a hand blearily over his face.

“Are you sad?”

Rhodey shrugged, still grinning from his chuckle.

“Are you drunk?”

Rhodey extended his index finger and poked his thumb in the air, making a pistol out of his hand and aiming it playfully at Tony. Apparently he'd hit the nail on the head with that one. Okay, so this wouldn't do at all. He was sure Rhodey had a million things to be mad and sad and drunk over – he was no longer a Machine but now a Patriot, a symbol of something that couldn't even really be defined, let alone fully actualized, and Tony had almost gotten them both killed _again_ , and...

“I'm sorry,” Tony said, and Rhodey looked at him again, finally holding his gaze. “I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry.”

“I'm not mad at you,” Rhodey said, shaking his head in exasperation. “Not all the time. I'm just always mad when I'm _around_ you.”

Tony laughed, but stopped when Rhodey extended a hand. “Come here,” Rhodey said, and Tony reached out and took it, but he resisted when Rhodey tried to pull him down. He loved Rhodey when he was drunk and dabbling in the maudlin – he became affectionately melancholy, mumbling against Tony's cheek about how sometimes he wished he could just design factory robots for Ford or lead recruits through physical training every morning on a lackluster base somewhere in the Midwest. Once he even offered the suit back, genuinely did not want it anymore, and Tony decided that _he_ would take the reins the next time Rhodey got too intoxicated to properly censor himself.

“No, no,” Tony said. “I'm gonna cheer you up, but we're doing this _my way_.”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto Rhodey's forehead, and he caressed the back of his head with one hand while the other one pressed a button behind the couch, making Tony's dance pole come out of the ground. Rhodey's laugh echoed around the cabin but faded once Tony began unbuttoning his shirt, and when the music changed to “Ballbreaker” he gave a triumphant shout. Rhodey already had his head in his hands and was wobbling it to and fro, possibly too blown away by Tony's audacity to even look at him.

“ _Breakin' balls / bangin' walls / work hard and tough / and I want some rough...”_

Rhodey laughed into his hands as Tony sang along, and he looked up when Tony's shirt landed on his head. He scrambled to get the fabric off of his head just in time to see Tony sliding his belt off as slowly as possible, his hips thrusting with every inch that was pulled free. He finally freed it and swung it around as he reached out with his free hand, taking the pole and giving a graceless spin. Rhodey cackled and so did Tony – okay, so they were _both_ drunk, but it seemed Tony's plan was working. Tony jumped and wrapped both legs around the pole but slid straight down, landing on his rump with a thud. “Christ,” Rhodey laughed, clapping with Tony's shirt still in his hands, and Tony stood quickly and removed his pants, then kicked them away with less finesse than he'd ever displayed in front of Rhodey.

“What are you -” and Rhodey just trailed off there, slinging one arm up onto the back of the couch and actually nodding his head to the music now, to Tony's surprise. He picked up his beer again and took a long swig, giggling a bit.

“Doesn't work with pants,” Tony said almost incredulously, almost like _how dare you question the removal of my pants_. Tony jumped up again and stayed this time, both legs tight around the pole, and he slowly straightened his legs out, keeping them crossed at the ankle, and this allowed him to tip his weight to the right and slowly spin around, now just wearing tight black briefs and his arc reactor. Rhodey's face softened then, seemingly impressed by the minimal amount of skill that Tony was displaying on the pole, but the little wave Tony gave him, fingers wiggling, made him burst into laughter.

“You're an idiot,” Rhodey said, but he was still nodding along to the song, his eyes starting to travel up and down as Tony placed his feet firmly around on the ground and swiveled his hips, one hand gripping the pole as he shifted from side to side.

“Your favorite idiot,” Tony mumbled, and he decided to ignore the way his voice went lower and got downright _sultry_ when he said that.

“This is true,” Rhodey said, his smile coming easily now. “Okay, I'm happy now, Tony, you don't have to -”

“Too late,” Tony interrupted, and he tried his best to saunter over to Rhodey, who he expected to laugh, but he was just watching Tony's feet, watching the way he crossed one in front of the other with each step, his eyes traveling up and pausing on his hips before finally meeting his eyes. “We're in the 'champagne room' now. Come on – this is your favorite line! _Hangin' off her legs / she threw me on the bed..._ ” Rhodey smiled again and they both began to sing, shouting so loudly that they were almost drowning out the music.

“ _Her hand went for my throat / as I began to choke / she said, 'honey, shoot your load'!”_

And then they both jammed their fists into the air to cry, _“You are a ballbreaker!”_ Tony couldn't help himself - he wasn't even thinking when he fell forward to straddle Rhodey's lap and bounce around, just dancing and flailing with no style or class, just vulgar thrusts of his hips into Rhodey's lap as Rhodey air-guitared beneath him. He could feel Rhodey kicking up a leg a la Angus Young, and the motion shoved Tony forward, knocking him into Rhodey's chest and making their faces bump together. Tony laughed and took Rhodey's beer out of his hand, turning it up and draining it without taking a breath.

“Hey,” Rhodey protested, but he was smiling and his hands were resting on Tony's hips, sliding around to meet at the small of his back, fingertips playing at the line of his underwear. “I'll get you another one,” Tony said, placing the bottle on the floor, and Rhodey shook his head.

“Nah, man, we're drunk enough,” Rhodey said. “You're in your underwear and giving me a lapdance – I'd say that's enough beer.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow and sunk down into Rhodey's lap more, and he tried to hide his surprise at what he felt between them. Clearly, Rhodey wasn't nearly as drunk as he let on because his erection was thick and hot against Tony, so clearly defined against his ass that Tony figured he could draw it just from touch alone. Perhaps Rhodey _was_ drunk because he didn't seem embarrassed, and he _had to_ know he was hard. Maybe he didn't care. Tony had an idea but it was a dumb one, but then again, Tony's dumb ideas usually worked out in the end. (Usually.)

“You're right,” Tony said, and he leaned up and reached behind Rhodey to retrieve a bottle of champagne from a bucket on the countertop. “ _Blanc de noir_ it is.” Rhodey was mumbling something - “Well, this _is_ the 'champagne room'” - as Tony sat back down in his lap, and Tony was sure to shift a bit as he got comfortable, rubbing his ass up and down Rhodey's length as he settled in and uncorked the bottle. Rhodey seemed to sigh a bit as Tony pulled out the cork so carefully that it didn't even bubble up and overflow, and he took a long swig before offering the bottle to Rhodey. Rhodey took it and leaned back, drinking with one hand still pressed to the small of Tony's back, keeping him in place.

“I should also mention that if _that's_ what you consider to be a lapdance,” Tony said, “then you have been going to some pretty shitty cabarets, my friend.”

Rhodey grinned, his head still back against the couch. He sat the bottle down on the floor and leaned back again, his eyes now almost boring holes into Tony as he looked at him, just _looked_ , and Tony felt Rhodey's hands on him again, sliding up and down his back.

“Well, obviously you think you can do better,” Rhodey said.

Rhodey's fingers sent shock waves through Tony's skin and emboldened him, made him want to blow every shitty lapdance Rhodey had ever had out of the fucking water. “I _know_ I can,” Tony said, his voice going gruff in a way that made him worry a little bit, but not really. “JARVIS, put on Billy Idol. You know the one.”

The AI didn't respond, just faded out AC/DC and slowly brought up the minimal bass-and-snare intro to Tony's favorite Billy Idol song. He went to a closet and grabbed a pilot's jacket, navy blue and gold, and he slipped his feet into a short pair of heels (and he didn't need to explain to _anyone_ why he had them or why they fit perfectly). He thought of that Steven Segal movie with the lady popping up out of a cake in just heels and a men's suit jacket, and suddenly he wished he had pouty lips and blond hair. ( _And a thong. Why the fuck did I wear briefs today? Why am I wearing underwear at all?_ )

Tony snapped out of his reverie and approached Rhodey again, slowly, being sure to shift his weight fully onto each foot as he walked, making his hips poke out with every step. He stopped short and leaned back on the pole, hips jutting out in front of him, and he rocked them from side to side as he sang along, _“Do you like good music? Do you like to dance?”_

Rhodey's nod was purely out of approval, his grin sincere and his eyes barely able to stay in one place now. Tony stood and spun around a bit, using the pole to steady himself as he spiraled in circles around it. He stopped and wobbled, stumbling in his heels, and he and Rhodey shared a good-natured laugh.

“Tony,” Rhodey said. “Why do you have heels that fit?”

“Is that good or bad?” he asked as he danced around in front of Rhodey, holding the jacket closed and sincerely wishing that his legs looked a mile long because of it.

“Oh, it's good, I just -”

And Rhodey stopped when Tony let the jacket fall open so he could hook a thumb into the waistband of his underwear, teasing them down just a bit as his hips rolled around to the sensual beat of the music. “Then don't question a good thing, sweetums,” Tony said, and Rhodey just tilted his head to the side and mumbled approval, as if that was the smartest idea Tony ever had. The chorus was up now and they were both singing along under their breath – this song had been a hit when they were in college and they'd seen many a working girl get lost in it's rhythm, some of them even stopping with the striptease and just dancing to it. Tony was leaning on the pole again, his knees bending as he shimmied down into a squat, working his ass in a circle for a moment before moving onto his hands and knees to crawl towards Rhodey.

“ _It's after midnight / are you feelin' alright? / Oh yeah...”_ Tony expected Rhodey to look nervous or maybe even a little turned off at this point, but he was just sitting back with his knees spread and a hand gently tapping out the tempo of the music on his stomach, his other hand once again wrapped around a $3,000 bottle of champagne. He wasn't smiling anymore and he looked tense, like he was ready to come out of his chair – the shallow rise-and-fall of his chest gave away the quickness of his breath, his stomach tight, and he wasn't even trying to hide his hard-on. If anything, Tony wondered if Rhodey was putting on a show for _him_ at this point.

Tony planted his hands on Rhodey's knees and he couldn't help the way his lip quirked a bit at the gasp it elicited from his friend. _“Neighbor to neighbor, door to door / don't ask questions / time for it all...”_ Tony stood up then, his hands still on Rhodey's knees and his ass poking out garishly behind him, and he went to keep singing but then was shocked into silence when Rhodey leaned up and touched his shoulder, running a hand down his side and to his hips and then suddenly all the way down his leg. Rhodey leaned off of the couch in a bit of a silly posture but neither of them noticed, neither of them cared when Tony was trying his best not to shudder at how hot Rhodey's hand was, coupled with the way his touch was hard and soft all at once, scratching a path all the way to his ankle.

“Your legs are a fuckin' mile long,” Rhodey mumbled as he brought his hand back up, and Tony was too awestruck to really notice that he'd basically gotten his wish from earlier. Rhodey's hand stopped at Tony's hip and squeezed him there, and now Rhodey's face was only inches from his, and they got even closer when Rhodey reached back and squeezed Tony's ass, his hand sliding into Tony's underwear and fingertips pressing into hot flesh. Tony tipped forward and pressed his lips to Rhodey's then, just figuring _fuck it_ , and he met no resistance – Rhodey's hands slid up and down Tony's ass and his back as their mouths twisted together, and Tony planted his hands on Rhodey's shoulders and straddled his lap again, glad to feel that Rhodey was still hard.

“How about that lapdance?” Rhodey whispered suddenly into their kiss, barely decipherable at first, and Tony didn't stop his assault on Rhodey's mouth as he began to twist his hips slightly, slowly, just moving back and forth. Rhodey arched up towards him and it made Tony hiss, _fuck_ he wanted to feel that again, but Rhodey had asked for a lapdance, so...

Tony broke their kiss and eased back a little to rock his hips around Rhodey's lap, not quite touching his cock anymore but making his clothes shift across it, and he could see the effect it was having on him. Rhodey had one hand on Tony's hip and kept trying to pull him closer, but luckily Tony was strong and he was able to keep his distance despite Rhodey's urging. Tony stood and turned around, hiking up the tail of the pilot's jacket and giving Rhodey what he hoped was a splendid view of his ass as he eased himself down, his hips moving in fluid circles that he almost didn't think he was controlling anymore. He felt Rhodey's hand on his hip again, pulling the jacket up and planting firmly on his side to slide Tony's ass along his hard-on, a hard-on that he was purposely thrusting up at Tony now, and Tony shuddered as he leaned back, now suddenly aware that his own cock was rock hard.

“Take this off,” Rhodey said, tugging at the jacket, and Tony sat up and flung it off in a flash, then leaned back against Rhodey's chest, resting his head on his shoulder. Tony was still in his heels and he had both legs folded beneath him as he squatted on Rhodey, and he could feel Rhodey's free hand tracing feather-light paths on his leg, all the way down to his shoe and back again.

Tony leaned forward and planted his hands on Rhodey's knees, lifting his hips up and down on Rhodey's crotch, and he turned his face to hide his grin at Rhodey's hiss. Tony leaned down to press his chest to Rhodey's thighs, his knees in the cushions and his ass in the air, his high-heeled feet sticking up as well as he slid back and forth, rubbing their hard cocks together. He gasped when he felt both of Rhodey's hands on his ass, fingers spread and his thumbs pressing between his cheeks, a tease that made Tony moan against Rhodey's khakis. Tony felt cool air against him and twitched, surprised, and he realized that Rhodey had pulled his underwear to the side, exposing him, and Tony arched up, his body begging for him when his mouth couldn't.

He felt Rhodey's fingertips run across his hole and he shuddered, and when it happened again they were slick with what Tony assumed was spit, and it made him whimper and thrust forward, his cock giving a great throb and leaking copiously at the touch. Rhodey teased him for a moment before gently pressing a fingertip in, sliding in slowly and carefully to his second knuckle, and when he curled it gently Tony arched up more. Rhodey followed along and went deeper, making Tony's toes curl inside his heels.

“Sorry,” Rhodey breathed, “I'm sorry, I should have asked -”

“The answer's yes,” Tony said, moving to sit up, and he grabbed his pants from where he'd kicked them onto the couch earlier, retrieving his wallet and some much-needed supplies. Rhodey's hand was between them and wrestling with his zipper, freeing his cock right as Tony leaned back, scooting up Rhodey's stomach a bit to wrap a lubed hand around it. He slicked Rhodey up quickly and handed the tiny foil packet to him, then leaned forward again and shivered when Rhodey hooked a thumb into the side of his underwear and exposed his already-wet hole to the air again. Tony gritted his teeth when he felt hot fingers working in and out of him, unable to stop himself from clenching around them and pushing back against them. He leaned down and kissed Rhodey's still-clothed knee, unable to get to any other part of him as his hips worked shamelessly against Rhodey's hand.

“Fuck me, Rhodey,” Tony said, his voice low, and there was barely a second between his words and when Rhodey removed his fingers and eased Tony back onto him, arching his hips up into Tony's body and pushing in all the way to the hilt. “Give it to me, come on,” Rhodey grumbled and Tony wasted no time, squatted back on his thighs and shins and moving up and down at a comfortable pace, squeezing around Rhodey so he would dig his fingers into Tony's hips. Tony squeezed again and Rhodey's grip on him tightened, and now Rhodey was moving Tony's hips, his own hips joining in and fucking into him hard and fast. Tony moaned out loud and somewhere in the back of his head he was happy that JARVIS had put Billy Idol on repeat, lest they startle the pilot.

Tony leaned back and rested his neck along Rhodey's shoulder, turning to kiss him as Rhodey took his thighs and held him up, still pistoning his cock into Tony while devouring his lips in kind. Tony planted his hands into the couch on either side of him and held himself up as best he could, almost startled by the crude way his high-heeled feet bounced in the air from the force of Rhodey's sex. But it was fucking sexy and apparently Rhodey thought so, too, and Tony even still had his fucking underwear on, Rhodey's grip stretching them beyond their means as he held Tony up to fuck him.

“Christ,” Tony moaned and he dropped his feet to the floor, putting his hands on Rhodey's knees again and just bouncing his ass, fucking hungry for it – Rhodey's orgasm or his own orgasm or whatever. He had long ago stopped questioning what was happening and had fallen into it, or rather Rhodey had fallen into him – he felt full with Rhodey's thick cock as they thrust together, their bodies slapping vulgarly as they both began to sweat even in the climate-controlled cabin of Tony's private jet.

Rhodey had his hand knotted into Tony's underwear, wrapped around his fist as his other hand gripped Tony's hip and suddenly he was standing up, supporting the entirety of Tony's weight as he flipped him face-down onto the couch before pulling Tony up onto his knees, and Tony had no shame as he spread his legs for Rhodey, who moved between them and entered him again quickly, all the way in, making Tony rear up, his skin breaking out in goosebumps as Rhodey seated himself deep inside.

Tony felt one of Rhodey's hands wrapped around his foot and the other one was still knotted in Tony's underwear, pulling him back onto Rhodey's cock quickly, hips snapping against Tony's ass with every shallow thrust. Tony reached down and finally freed his own cock, red and throbbing now, and he went to wrap a hand around it only to have it batted away and replaced by Rhodey's. His stroke was quick and firm as he draped his body over Tony's, and he finally wiggled his other hand free of the underwear – they sagged off of Tony now, they were so stretched out – to wrap an arm around Tony's waist and lift him up onto his hands and knees as he fucked into him. Tony cried out and squeezed hard around Rhodey, hearing his friend groan in his ear, his stroke getting erratic, and a slight twist of Rhodey's thumb along the head of Tony's cock finally undid him. He felt his strength drain as he started coming, his arms trembling as his cock pulsed in Rhodey's hand, making a mess of his Italian suede sofa. Rhodey held him up and kissed his neck, whispered, “Yeah, Tony, _fuck_ ,” and he gave a great shove forward, coming in hot waves inside of Tony, washing over a spot deep inside of him that made his vision go white for a moment. Rhodey began to lose his strength, too, and they both slowly eased down onto the couch as Rhodey's orgasm subsided.

Their bodies curved together perfectly as they caught their breath, Rhodey's still-clothed legs running along the curve of Tony's nude ones, his leather Oxfords bumping against Tony's high heels. Rhodey ran a hand down Tony's arm to thread their fingers together, and he kissed his neck again.

They still had seven hours before they reached Edwards Air Force Base. Rhodey felt like a blanket draped over Tony, warm and welcome and familiar, and Tony decided that they would sleep until then.

 

* * *

 

Three weeks later, Tony and Rhodey were boarding his jet to head to New York. Rhodey walked in and sat his bag in an empty seat before placing himself at his usual spot – on the curved couch where he and Tony always ate, always drank, always yelled and got mad at one another and got sad together and tried to cheer each other up. Tony walked in and saw him sitting there, and he tried to just nod and not blush as he went to put his bag in the closet. He opened it and saw the pilot's jacket, navy blue and gold, and before he could even be sufficiently mortified, he heard Rhodey speak up behind him.

“Still got those shoes?”

**Author's Note:**

> [Fanart for The Champagne Room by Dondy](http://qouinette-not.tumblr.com/post/80395789751/the-champagne-room-rhodey-tony-fanart)
> 
> LOOK AT TONY'S LEGS OMFG


End file.
